[Samuel x Roman]

s a m u e l​

"Don't ask me for help and then threaten me," Samuel laughed and splashed some water Roman's way, but not too much so it didn't end up on sweet and innocent little Letha. But then he still walked into his husband's arm and pulled him into a bit of a hug, "I'll protect you from the big bad fourteen and a half year old," for good measure he also gave Roman's chest a little snuggle. Since he hadn't gotten completely submerged yet it would also probably make him a little wet, which was the perfect revenge for threatening him.

"WHY ARE YOU BEING SO LAAAAAME!" Stella protested immediately and started to splash her daddies with water, which of course also meant Letha got splashed. Stella stopped herself after a second or two, noticed her mistake, but still kept and amused grin on her face as she said, "oh, whoops, sorry Letha," seemingly Letha's sweetness wasn't going to stand in the way of Stella's fun.

"Revenge splash her," Eden said in an excited stage whisper, coming up behind Letha to help his little sister get revenge on his slightly older sister.
 
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Letha squealed when she was splashed, but she clearly didn't mind it all that much. Neither did Roman, but of course he was a total drama queen and was therefore required by law to act as if being splashed by his daughter was the single most insulting and offensive thing to have ever happened in his entire life.

"Stella," he said in a deep and quiet voice. "This sort of behaviour is completely unacceptable. You should be ashamed of yourself. You have brought dishonour upon yourself and your entire family. We expected better things from you. This will not be tolerated."

"Shut up and revenge splash her!" Harper shouted. He had gone off a few meters to avoid his family's reckless splashing as much as he could, but that didn't allow him to avoid his dad's icy glare.

"You too, Harper, should be deeply ashamed of your actions. We raised you kids better than this, and never in my fourteen years of being a parent would I have expected this type of behaviour from my very own children."

"Papa! Daddy's being lame!" Letha protested.
 
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Samuel couldn't help but laugh at his husband being so over frantic, it earned him some laugh from the kids as well. Roman's sense of humor felt so unique to him and it really embodied who he was, so it it did take Samuel some effort if he was going to side with the kids on this one, or Roman. Ultimately he settled for the kids, most because he thought splashing Roman sounded pretty fun.

"Yes I would have to agree, he's being awfully lame," Samuel said and slowly started to move away from his husband, he also reached out for Letha's hand, and Eden who had been close to her followed along, probably sensing that Samuel had something in store. Samuel continued to speak as he walked, "maybe he's actually the one doing the wrong thing, maybe he's just trying to shift the blame on you, the real crime might be not splashing!"

Once all of the children were standing somewhere behind him, Samuel went to action and begun splashing his husband wildly, calling for the children to help him. Stella joined in right away and Eden not long thereafter.
 
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As Roman began to be violently splashed, he let out a loud noise of frustration, but that didn't stop his family. Harper and Letha quickly joined in and soon everyone was just pummelling Roman with water. He opened his mouth to protest but instead just got a mouthful of lake water, which he spat out, and then realised that if he was going to be freed, he needed an escape route.

Roman threw his body under the water, then swam out of the circle that had been created by shooting between Samuel's legs. On his way, he made sure to trip his husband up to cause him to fall into the water. Once he was a safe distance away, Roman materialised, his hair sopping wet and his face creased in annoyance.

"You all suck, I'm going to steal the tent and go live in the mountains where I don't have to deal with this sort of blatant abuse anymore."
 
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Even though Samuel kind of sense what was to come when Roman swam under water, but he was maybe underestimating his abilities a tad and he did fall under the water, when he resurfaced it was to some shrieking laughter from the kids and Roman claiming he was leaving them for a better life in the mountain. Samuel would have laughed more if he wasn'¨t busy getting the water out of his eyes and nose.

After a second or two though he was all okay to make up a good comeback, "that just means we'll get the house all to ourselves," Samuel announced loudly and happily, "And we can have water fights all we want without any complaints!"

"Heck yeah!!" Stella agreed and splashed more in her daddy's general direction "You can't ever stop us, and we'll have a great time while you sulk in the mountains! You don't even like the mountains!"
 
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"Oh heck, that's true," Roman said, clicking his fingers and placing his hands on his hips incredulously, as if he couldn't believe it. "Well, I guess I'll have to kick you all out of the house and you can live in the mountains, while I chill with the pets for the rest of time in our massive house that totally won't feel empty at all with everyone else gone."

"Haha, Daddy! You would totally miss us!" Letha giggled, splashing in his direction adorably.

Roman's heart melted. Because even if he was being an annoying drama queen, and even if his family were being quite rude to him, he loved them with all of his heart. Despite his jests he couldn't imagine spending even one day without at least one of them, because they had all been interwoven so expertly with his own life that he didn't even know what to do without them.

"You know what, baby? You're absolutely right."
 
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"We get to keep Daddy then!" Samuel cheered, Stella said somithing about it being lame but they were ll having fun, and she would totally miss her dad if he did go up to live in the mountains, or kicked them all out to live in the mountains, even if she was at that age when she wouldn't admit it.

They continued their little lake time fun, splashing each other with water, swimming, and then got up to lay in the sun and have some snacks. After a long day they retired to camp and lt a fire again to warm some food, and more marshmallows, because marshmallows were made for camping in Samuel's opinion, so he was not about to nag about having to much sweets.

The next day they did some hiking before they packed up their tent and left to go home. Despite all the complaints, and the eagerness to come back home to civilisation on comfortable beds, they had all clearly had a lovely time and Samuel was glad he had forced them all out for the family activity, it never hurt to become a little closer to your family, and that is what he felt they all were now.
 
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"Hugo, do you want my juice box?"

School had started again, and so had Letha's worry for her friend. She felt bad that she had somehow managed to forget about him, mostly, over the break. But now that they were back in the classroom, and Letha could see the way he moved as if he were in severe pain, it was impossible to forget that something was wrong.

Hugo still hadn't told her what had happened, and while she was respecting his privacy and his right to choose whether or not to tell her, it was driving her crazy that she was still oblivious to the cause of the problem. Letha really cared for her friend, and she wanted to soothe his suffering in any way she could. But she couldn't do that if she didn't know what was going on.

Presently, they were sitting around the back of one of the buildings, under the shade of the metal wall, leaning against it while they ate their lunch. It was quiet and private and Letha's calm was tinged with worry, as always. She held out the cardboard box of orange juice to the boy with a look that implored him to take it, because even if she couldn't directly target what was going wrong in his life, she could try to make it easier.
 
h u g o​

This summer had been awful. It had technically started at the end of last year when everyone had been getting ready for the break and Hugo had realized he no longer would have the refuge of school. And then his anxiety about the summer had only grown greater until school was over and he found himself stuck at home. And things had really been worse. His mum still had work, and he would have been grateful for that but she came home tired and drank and then saw that he had made a mess in the kitchen when trying to make lunch for himself, or found out that he had gone out to hang out with some friends without her permission, or even just gone to the convenience store to buy something to eat that he could microwave without making a mess. By the end of the summer it felt like no matter what he did he did something wrong, and thus he stopped really trying to do anything. He never asked to go out to hang out with friends, and he mostly just stayed in his room the entire day, and then asked his mum when she came home if they could make something to eat. Even so, some days she had gotten mad at him for not taking care of himself and eating lunch, while on others she got annoyed that he expected her to make dinner right when she got home and was tired. Other days they did make it together though, and they would have a good time and she wouldn't drink until Hugo was back in his room.

He had expected things to calm down a little when school had started but it hadn't. If anything it was getting worse. Hugo was pretty sure it was because he was getting older. High school wasn't far away and he was expected to take more responsibility, and so there were more things his mother could be mad at him for, like not coming home in time, or not starting his homework right away, or not working on it long enough or not making sure his room wasn't a mess and so on.

Yesterday seemingly everything had been wrong at once. Hugo wasn't even really sure what he had done wrong but as the next day came around literally everything hurt and he had had to pull on a sweater on top of his uniform again. Still, his neck hurt so there were probably some bruises there, and he had some on his knees as well.

At least Letha was kind. She always was and Hugo always felt bad for making her worry. They had taken to sitting alone today, in the shade, where they could just hang out. He wished he could be a little more fun to be around though, because he was mostly just quiet. A habit he seemed to have picked up over the summer was just to not really talk much, it wasn't worth the risk. Accepting Letha's juice box didn't feel worth the risk either, she would never do anything bad to him, but in his head, it felt like something nice wouldn't come without it being twisted into something bad. Like when his mum would tell him he wasn't being grateful for her making dinner on something.

But he was warm and Letha seemed like she wasn't going to take no for an answer so he carefully took it with a small, "thanks" and received it, and opened it. He didn't put his lips on the straw so he could double check if it was okay, "are you sure this it's alright if a take it?"
 
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Letha didn't answer Hugo when he asked her if it was really okay that he have the juicebox. She couldn't answer. She couldn't say anything. Not when she had just seen something so terrible and so horrific that she almost couldn't believe she had never noticed it before.

When Hugo had leaned over to take the juice box, his sweater and shirt had hiked up, and revealed a mess of purple bruises splotching the pale skin. Letha stared, not bothering to hide that she was doing so, because in that moment she decided that she didn't care about invading Hugo's privacy anymore. Of course she didn't want to make him upset. But she didn't want to let him continue lying to her about something so horrid either.

Instead of answering about the juice box, Letha took advantage of the fact that his hands were raised with the object clasped between them to shoot her hand forward and slide up his shirt and sweater as gently as she could. When she did so, she unveiled even more terrible bruises, and Letha burst into tears. Letha didn't know much about injuries, but she had watched Harper and her papa play soccer for long enough to know that those weren't the kind of bruises you got from falling, or hurting yourself in any way shape or form.

Those were the kind of bruises you got from being hurt by someone else.

Letha's little body was trembling, and her bottom lip was quivering violently. She looked up at her friend with wet and glistening eyes, not bothering to hide her sorrow or her horror at what she had just seen. "H - H - Hugo," she stammered in a pained voice, a pleading voice that implored her friend to be truthful. "What happened to you?"
 
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Hugo didn't even really register what was happening at first. One second he was inquiring about the juice, the next Letha's hands were on him. But as soon as Hugo really realised what was going on -Letha had seen the bruises, she had seen the worst ones and she was crying- hemade a quick motion to pull down his sweater again, but in the moment he forgot all about the juice he was holding and it dropped onto the ground. It bounced onced before it fell flat and started to pour out juice. Since it was only open in such a little hole and had the straw in it wasn't like it was the end of the world, but in that moment it sure felt like it.

"O--Oh. Oh no I messed up, I'm sorry," Hugo said and desperately reached for tha package of juice as tears just started to well over. It was all too much. He didn't want Letha to know and he didn't want her kindness to be for nothing, and if the juice spilled out he was and he was a terrible person who just messed everything thing up no matter what he did and now he had made Letha cry too. Letha who was literally the person who was the kindest to him in the world, "I--I'm sorry I didn't mean to, It's okay,? It didn't even spill much, so it's alright? I'm sorry, Letha,"

And then he just broke down crying completely, grasping the juice box a little to hard, it wasn't enough to cause it to overflow, only buckle a little under hiss grip. But he was overflowing, he couldn't stop the loud sobs that just flooded out, the sobs that had been heard by no one but the pillow he used to muffle them out with when he cried himself to sleep each night.
 
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Letha didn't know what was going on with Hugo, but God, it was scaring her. She watched in horror as he began to freak out about spilling the tiniest amount of the contents of the juice box, and the way he kept profusely apologising for it as if he feared she was about to yell at him for doing so. What had happened to make him this scared of messing up?

Hugo started crying and Letha started to cry even harder. Gently, she pried the juice box out of his hands, set it aside, and then wrapped her arms around his middle and held him closely. She made sure not to squeeze him too hard out of fear of causing him pain -- those bruises definitely looked painful -- but she held him tightly enough to get her point across. She was there for him, and she wanted to give him whatever love and support he needed.

"Hugo," she said hoarsely, just managing to get the words out of her mouth clearly. "I don't know what's going on, but you need to tell me, because if someone is hurting you this badly then we need to get you out of your house. Is it your mum? It has to be, right?" Letha knew Hugo only lived with his mother, and it broke her heart to think that the very woman who was meant to unconditionally love and care for him was the one who had hurt him this badly, and ingrained this terror into his heart. "Hugo, if it's her you gotta tell me, because you can't stay there if she's doing this to you. You need to get out of that house, Hugo. You can't get hurt like this anymore."
 
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Hugo accepted Letha's hug without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, sobbing into her shoulder, it almost made him feel a little better, until she just suddenly seemed to realize what was going on and Hugo didn't like that. He didn't want her to know, he didn't want anyone to know. He didn't know what would happen if she knew. But one way or another it would be bad. whether it was because his mother fund out and got mad or someone else found out and took him from her, because she was still his mum and he loved her and she was probably having a hard time too.

Hugo took a deep breath, he had to deny it and he had to come up with an excuse, it just had to be believable, "It's not my mum, she hasn't done anything, I--I just I..." but coming up with another excuse was hard. He had used so many of them, he fell of his bike and he stumbled down the porch and wore really slippery socks one day and slipped on the floor and so on. But Letha knew that these bruises were caused by someone and not himself, but who would hurt him that she didn't know? "It's... Some kids on my block? I uh, I don't know why but they don't like me and sometimes they hurt me. My mum would never do this."

The last sentence was honestly more a wish than it was him tying to convince Letha. He just wanted his mum to love him and he wished she would never hurt him. But that just wasn't the truth.
 
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"Hugo!" Letha cried. She pulled back to look at him incredulously -- she couldn't believe that she was still lying to him.

Letha wasn't angry, she wasn't mad, she wasn't even disappointed. She was just scared, because it was so obvious what was happening, and he was preventing her from helping him. Letha knew it wasn't her business, and she didn't want to push her friend away by making him angry that she kept pressing. But she could not, in good conscience, just let this go. Not when she knew what was going on.

"Hugo, please, you have to tell me what's going on," she begged. Letha let go of him, but clutched his hands between her own and looked into his eyes with a sense of desperation. "I won't be able to go home without worrying about you now. I'm not trying to make you feel bad and I'm not angry at you, I promise. But you have to tell me. I can help you."

Letha sniffled and squeezed his hands again. "My Papa is a teacher, he knows what to do if a kid is being abused at home. You can tell me and I can tell my parents and we can help you. I know she's your mum and you want to protect her, and that you love her even if she's hurting you but you're not safe. You don't know how bad it can get."
 
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The way Letha insisted despite his lies only made Hugo feel more panicked. His breath grew a little quicker between the sobs and he looked at Letha with wide terrified eyes for a moment. He couldn't say anything to make her not believe what she had realized was the truth, and if he didn't tell her he'd worry her more and he couldn't worry Letha more. Some days she was literally the only person he felt like he head.

He attempted to take a deep breath and then in a broken voice he insisted, "It won't get worse," he was still arguing against her and he wasn't saying it outright but the implications were there. He felt like he knew how bad it could get because it couldn't get worse, it just couldn't.

"I don't want you to tell your Papa," he added, quickly and he continued to speak fast and panicked, "I don't want people to know, please Letha just don't tell anyone. I can handle it, and won't be as bad again once we've got a hang on my school routine and stuff again, and I'm learning how to avoid it so I can handle it I promise, I don't want her to get in trouble for it,"
 
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Finally, after months of trying to figure out what the hell was going on with Hugo, he confessed it. Letha let out a sound that was somewhere in the middle between a sob and a sigh. She was relieved to have finally learned what was going on, but at the same time, she was absolutely horrified that her suspicions had been confirmed.

How could someone do that to their own child? How could someone hurt their little boy so badly that his stomach was reduced to a mess of black and blue bruises, and he was so scared of doing the wrong thing that he burst into tears when he spilled a juice box? Letha was a nice girl, a nice and sweet girl, but in that moment she felt nothing but rage for Hugo's mother. She was angry at the woman who had hurt her friend, and angry that she hadn't been able to help Hugo sooner.

"Hugo, you can't handle it on your own." Letha took a deep breath. She knew that she had to convince Hugo to let her tell, but how? How could she convince him to turn on his own mother like that? How could she convince him to let her tell her Daddy and her Papa.

Her Papa. Letha got an idea. "Hugo, when my Papa was in high school, his papa beat him all the time," she said in a very soft, very quiet voice. She felt bad that she was divulging her parent's secret without his permission, but she also knew that Papa wouldn't blame her for it if it meant she could help Hugo. "He beat him really badly, and now he has PTSD, it's been almost thirty years and he's still terrified because of what his father did to him. I don't want you to have to go through that too, but you'll have to if you don't let me help you get out of there now. Please, let me tell my parents."
 
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Hugo listened to Letha's story. Had it been someone else telling it he would have thought they were lying to get him to agree to let them tell, it was just too convenient that she had someone close to her who had gone through something similar. But Letha wouldn't lie to him, which meant her papa, who he had met once or twice when he had still felt like he could ask his mum if he could visit his friends, had bin hit by his parent.

Hugo might have heard of PTSD once or twice, he didn't knew entirely what it was, but he knew it was bad and like Letha described it in relation to her papa, it could make you scared of things in the past. Hugo didn't wan't that. He loved his mum and he didn't want her to be all by herself and he didn't want to be taken from her because despite everything he'd miss her but... He didn't want to always feel like this, in some way there had always been some refuge in knowing that he'd be an adult and by himself one day. That he'd be able to make his own rules and not be scared when he was home. But now Letha was bringing up the possibility of him being afraid then too.

He didn't want that.

He was quiet again, hesitating, not sure what to do but then finally he murmured, "...Okay... Okay, but they can't call my mum and ask her, okay?" he didn't want her to know that he had told on her, not that he had, Letha had figured it out by herself, but he was sure his mother wouldn't see at that way and it terrified him to think about what consequences this would have for him if sh found out.
 
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"Letha? What's going on?"

Roman had finished a shift at work, picked up his kids, gone home and made everyone dinner without a problem that evening. He had made spinach and ricotta ravioli which everyone had enjoyed, and they had finished off their meal with ice cream and chocolate milk. Now, however, everything seemed to be taking a darker turn.

Letha had asked her dads into her bedroom, and she had sat them both down on her bed and was pacing back and forth in front of them. She looked so stressed that Roman was clutching Samuel's hand and watching her as his heartrate began to speed up in his chest. Letha was still so young. She shouldn't be this worried about anything. What on earth could have happened.

"Letha? Honey? Have you done something wrong, do we need to --"

"No, no, no, I haven't done anything, it's fine," Letha interrupted with a shake of her hands. She took a deep breath. And then she began. "I ... ages ago I saw my friend Hugo had some bruises and I asked what was wrong and he just said that he fell or something, and I believed him, but then he kept coming back to school with more bruises and he kept making excuses and I just knew that something was wrong, but I couldn't figure it out and he wouldn't tell me."

Letha sniffled, but she powered through her tears to finish explaining what was going on. "And then I saw that they were real bad today, they were covering his stomach, and he spilled a juice box and he was so scared that he was going to get in trouble for it, and he finally told me and --" Letha burst into tears. "Oh my god, it's so awful."

Roman bit back his own tears. He wanted to cry seeing how distraught his little girl was, but he knew he needed to be strong for her. He held his arms out to her and she came rushing forward. "Tell us what happened, baby."

"H - H - His mum beats him up," Letha whispered. Roman stared at her in horror. "I don't know why or for how long, but she beats him up and he's so scared of doing the wrong thing and being punished for it. I - I told him about you, Papa, about what happened to you when you were young. I'm sorry I didn't ask you first but I just needed him to tell me what was happening and I said I would tell you guys, because you'd be able to help, right?"

Letha looked up at her dads with glossy eyes filled with tears. "W - We can help him, right? I promised him we could help him get out of there if I told you."
 
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Samuel was always happy their children could go to him and Roman when something had happened. But just because they were willing to tell them didn't mean it didn't cause any worry. Especially not when it was Letha, who still was so young, who had brought them up to her room and had an expression of utter worry on her face. Samuel didn't ever want their children to feel like she seemed to be feeling at that moment, at least not at her age. But if she did, he would listen and he would make sure she felt better.

As it turned out the issue at hand wasn't entirely about her though, instead one of her friends. It didn't mean Samuel was listening less, because he could tell this was something that had been affecting Letha a lot, but it was a bit of relief, that is, until he started to get an understanding of what was going on.

Samuel suspected what was going on the moment Letha started to mention the bruises, but when she actually told them what was going on his heart dropped. His expression must have matched that of horror his husband displayed, if not also sadness. They had met Hugo once or twice along with Letha's other friends, he was one of the ones who had stuck around for a while, and he was a really sweet kid. A sweet kid who did not deserve to be hurt by his own parents, not that any child did. Samuel joined the hug, not just to comfort Letha but to get comfort himself, a small mention of something happened wasn't going to send him into full-fledged flashbacks, but he couldn't help to think about his past when he thought about someone close to a family member going through the same thing, if not even worse based on Letha's descriptions.

"of course we can help him," Samuel said, his voice didn't sound the most confident it ever had because it was stained by tears, but even if he couldn't say with confidence what would happen he could say with confidence that he would do anything he could to get that kid out of that house, it didn't matter what happened, and if it was needed he'd gladly let him stay with their family, and he knew Roman would think the same, "As soon as possible, if this is going on we can't let it happen, don't worry Letha. Hugo's going to be okay, I promise,"
 
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Roman was horrified to know what was going on with Letha's friend. He had never been able to comprehend how people like Manuel Ortega had been able to lay hands on their own children, and that complete confusion had only been re-enforced when he had had his own kids. Looking at his four little angels now, he couldn't imagine how anyone would want to hurt them, much less how he could possibly cause them any form of harm.

Letha didn't respond to her papa's promises, at least not verbally. No, she just continued to cry really hard into Roman's shoulder. Roman rubbed both her back and Samuel's, trying to offer them both as much comfort as he possibly could.

That night, after the kids went to bed, Roman talked with his husband about how they could help Hugo. They both agreed to call the social services -- and the police -- the next day. They went into a police station following one of these phone calls to make a report. Since they had no evidence other than their word, the police went to the school and investigated Hugo. Then, after seeing the bruises, the little boy was taken to a hospital, and Hugo's mother was arrested.

The social services were going to put Hugo into foster care, but Roman, acting upon the decision he and Samuel had made, stepped in and offered to take the boy in while they sorted things out. He argued that it was much better for Hugo to be with people he knew than random people who could potentially cause him distress, and that he and his husband were the adoptive parents of four successful and bright children, and were therefore more than qualified for the job. The social worker, who was clearly desperate to keep another kid out of the foster system, agreed, and so Roman and Samuel filled out some papers and were legally declared as Hugo's temporary guardians.

Roman went with Hugo to his house to pack up his clothes and everything else he deemed important, and soon, he and Samuel were carrying the boy's things into their own home. It was late afternoon but London and Evan had picked up their kids so they could settle Hugo in and concentrate on him for the time being.

"This is your room," Roman said to the small child, opening the spare bedroom on the very top floor opposite his and Samuel's own. It was, like all the other bedrooms in the house, quite large. It was spacious enough for a double bed, a wardrobe, a dresser and a desk, and it had its own bathroom, though this was a bit smaller than all the others. Roman set one of Hugo's many suitcases down on the floor, then crouched down in front of the boy.

"Hugo," he said softly. "I can't imagine what you're going through right now. I know you miss your mum, and you might be mad at Letha for telling us what happened. But you're safe now, I promise, you're safe now. No one here is going to hurt you, and you can stay here for as long as you need to. We're all here to help you, and we want you to be happy and comfortable. So if there's ever anything you need at all, please don't hesitate to tell us. We're going to look after you. I promise."
 
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